Heart Work

It has been a long while since my last post in this little corner of the world. For those of you who still drop by for a read, thank you.  Intentionally lately, I've been quiet.  Although life has been anything but quiet, I've been trying to consciously give myself something I've desperately needed on so many levels...rest. Rest for my heart, for my mind and my body. Unfortunately, it doesn't mean that I've had an opportunity to take a hiatus from the responsibilities of life, but instead of publicly writing and being constantly surrounded by social media, I've spent more time reflecting, praying, focusing on our marriage, working out, (working), sleeping, reading and just being. Rest. This rest has provided me time to grieve privately....to let my emotions linger for a short while...to figure out where I am. Right here. Right now.

This respite from blogging doesn't mean that I'm moving on from Aaron or his absence in our life; it doesn't mean that I no longer miss him. In fact, those statements couldn't be further from the truth. For us, life looks and feels drastically different than it did even two months ago, but I miss him the same. Deep anguish and mourning now come and go rather than being ever-present on a daily or hourly basis; still, I desperately long to hold him and see the 6 month old boy he would be today. To hear his giggles...or his screaming and crying...would be music to my ears. Days of more sorrow than joy and the accompanying meltdowns still manage to make their appearance here and there, and it is in these times that I so selfishly want him here. But, in this rest, God has been fervently working on my heart.

During the past six months, so many of our prayers consisted not only of pleading for God to take our pain away, but simply to be able to feel His presence in our darkness. At times, it was unquestionable, unmistakable, that He alone was holding us up. During other times, I wondered how many more weeks it would be until I'd see His hand reaching down to pull us up for air from the storm in which we were slowly drowning. I look back and can see that God has been faithful, upholding His promise, and that in this rest He has been working on quite the project. He has been slowly...very, very slowly... healing a very broken heart. My own.

In this healing, I feel that He has melded a tiny part of my broken heart back together. Inscribed in this little piece is acceptance. No, not complete, consistent and pure acceptance that our son died, but a peace about this path that we walk. A peace in knowing that Aaron is not and will not suffer through this life which, no matter how many ways you attempt to look at it, would not have been easy, or fair. Acceptance that we prayed for healing...and that God chose the method. I'm learning what it is to ask for God's guidance, accept His answer and follow the path that He lays before us, regardless of the anger, fear, disagreement or heartbreak that may accompany it.  Even several weeks ago, I thought that achieving this feeling of acceptance...of peace and surrender... would forever be impossible. Yet, if even for only a short while, God has brought us to this place and given us a glimpse. He is faithful. 

As I drove home from work tonight, I thought about that night, six months ago, when we looked sweet Aaron in the eyes for the first time and said hello and, shortly after, held him as we said goodbye. While reminiscing, this song came on the radio and tears ran down my face...because of the words and because of the memory. Almost weekly during youth group worship in the many months that I carried Aaron, he heard me sing this, my hands on my belly, feeling him move and loving every minute of it. This song brings back some of my favorite, intimate moments with him... the closest I ever got to holding him and singing to him while he was on this earth. God gave us our beautiful son, and despite the road that he chose for us to walk... He loves us.

Oh, How He Loves Us...

To listen, first pause the music player on the right-hand side of the screen.

5 Months

I began writing a post as a reflection of the past five months...the days since we first said hello to Aaron. As I read it back, it truly was a reflection of the past five months; a reflection of our grief and heartbreak. Yet, as I look back to that single day, August 25th, I decided that the post wasn't appropriate. It doesn't capture the feelings of that day at all. In fact, it was quite the opposite. 


Five months ago, today, was one of the happiest days of our lives. For a brief moment in time, we were able to forget that we were terrified...forget that we had spent the better part of the last year on our knees praying for a miracle...forget that our future as a family was completely uncertain.  Five months ago we heard the most beautiful cry and kissed the sweetest cheeks that were ever known to us. If only for a short few seconds, God graciously lifted our anxiety and fears and in that moment allowed us to experience unreserved pure love and pure joy...that of our son. He was perfect. And today, five months later, he is perfect...healthy and healed...perfect, as God planned.  We only wish that we could experience his healed body here on earth, rather than waiting for our eternity. 


I wonder so many things about you, Aaron Matthew. What you would look like, all the things you would now be doing, your personality? I wonder what you are doing now, what heaven is like, if you understand how much we miss you? Some day, Aaron. I know that we will have all these answers, and more importantly, that we will hold you once again...not nearly soon enough, but some day. Happy five month birthday, son. We miss you and love you more than you'll ever know sweet boy.   Love Always, Mommy & Daddy

...He said to them, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these...  ~Mark 10:14

Goodness & Faith

Better pull up a chair and grab a cup of coffee...this post ended up being a long one...


Today has been a rougher morning and I'm not sure why. Our Sundays usually begin with church, but not today (as we are going tonight), so maybe that has something to do with it. I walked into Aaron's room this morning with hopes of finishing a couple more little things and it hit me. All of a sudden, the pain and the fact that he was gone was once again very fresh, very real and very raw. I find it odd that during some days the pain is so great that we feel as if we said goodbye just yesterday and other days it feels that it has been so much longer than the past two months. This morning, it felt to me as if we are still waiting for him to come home, all the while knowing that he never will. I can't tell you how much I look forward to the day that we will be together with him again.

On that note, there is something else I've struggled with over the past several weeks. I've heard and seen the phrase "God is good all the time, and all the time God is good" many, many times since Aaron passed away and to be honest,  it ties my stomach in knots when I hear it. I get frustrated. I want to scream and cry. At times, my response would be "that's easy for you to say, your son didn't just die." Now, I'm not having a pity party, but it feels similar to times when I've been having a rough day dealing with Aaron's death and I happen to run into the 'always happy, overly joyful, I just found a leprechaun and a pot of gold today' type of person who says "come on, smile. Nothing about your day can be that bad."  All I want to say is "let me tell you what today the last two months of my life have been like..." It is these same feelings I've had when I hear that phrase "God is good all the time, and all the time God is good". 

If you read my last post, or many of my previous posts for that matter, you may wonder if I've had a change of heart. I hope that you don't get offended and stop reading. Please, continue on as I stumble through some reflecting that I've done over this...

Because of my faith and the relationship that I have with God, I am honestly unsure why I've had this negative attitude and response to this saying/phrase, so I spent some time reflecting on it yesterday. One thing I am sure of is that with all of my heart and every ounce of my being, all  I've ever wanted to be other than a wife is a mother. I enjoy my career as a physical therapist and I always strive to do my best at whatever I do, but it doesn't hold a candle to my desire to have a child, have a family and be a wife and mother. Yes, I am still a mother; I have a son, but right now, I have no one to mother. I want him back... I want him here... I want him, and only him, in my arms. In conversations with God, I've asked "If you are good, why did you take our child, our son; a child who was so deeply and desperately wanted and loved from the moment we knew we were expecting? Why?" I know I will never have an answer; not on earth or in this lifetime anyway.

Through this journey, I've realized that it is alright for me to have frustrations and questions for God; it actually keeps me talking to Him...a lot. I've also come to the realization that it is human nature for us to define His goodness with how closely His plan lines up with our wants and desires. It would be easy for me to say that God is unloving and that He is not good all the time because He took our only child from us or did not stop our son from being taken from us... however you'd like to look at it. He is the great physician; His hands perform miracles everyday; yet, we didn't get one on that night that we hit our knees and begged and pleaded and cried out to Him to save our son. We never got to change a diaper, feed him, snuggle him, hear him scream and cry or bring him home.  From the minute he was born, he was poked and prodded, sedated and cut open. And although I pumped religiously every two to three hours because it was the only way I knew to help him, he was never fed...not a single drop. I walk through life carrying this weight and knowing that we signed the consent forms; and after it was all said and done, his poor body endured being cut open again, only so doctors and science could "try to figure out and learn from what went wrong". The only time I ever got to hold my son, his body was lifeless and cold...he was already gone. However, we carry these burdens knowing that we listened to the doctors and that our intentions were rooted in nothing but love and hope so that he could have a chance at life. Had we known the outcome, I wouldn't have done any of it. His short time on earth would have been spent in our arms, surrounded by his family and knowing and feeling that he was so very loved. I hated watching Aaron suffer and feeling so helpless in doing so. Honestly, I do have trouble seeing the goodness in all of this.

As I have spent some time reflecting, praying and reading the bible, I realize that maybe, just maybe, what we are walking through right now is good. Maybe this...the tears, the frustration, the deep sorrow, the anger, the longing for our son...maybe all of this is a small part of God's goodness. Maybe it is all part of the bigger picture that we cannot see. Maybe those three days of suffering would have turned into years...years of frequent hospitalization, surgeries, constant struggles and poor quality of life...years of wondering if each day would be our last day with Aaron. Cardiac kids are fragile. At some point, he would have required a transplant and we would be left wondering if he would receive a heart. The future holds so many unknowns. I have no doubt that God could see what his life would or could have been and maybe he made His decision. It wasn't a decision defined by our wants and desires or that lined up with our plans, but maybe He couldn't bear to watch His child suffer. Honestly, in that, I can see His goodness.

I journaled everything above prior to going to church tonight. As I've said before, the ways in which God speaks to us at times amazes me. Our pastor preached on Saul (Paul) in Acts 9 tonight and one thing he said really spoke to me...

  "The bible teaches that God does not do evil things or bad things to people. We could argue all night long about whether God caused that or allowed that...at some point, you have to throw that question out the window. The truth is that something happened; something big, something life-changing and it knocked me flat. Is that tragedy in my life that brought me or someone else back to God a good thing or bad thing? It's still a bad thing. How about this...it was a bad thing and God redeemed it. God used it. God refuses to waste the mess in our lives. God took a bad thing and used it for good; just like He promised those who love Him." 

I gained a lot of clarity through the sermon tonight, even though it wasn't speaking to exactly what we have been going through. The tragedies  that happen to us in life can't be classified as good simply because they brought us or someone else closer to God, but God is Good. He uses these situations and "the mess" of our lives for good and although He never said that life would be easy, He said that we wouldn't go through it alone. He is always there. He is ever present...holding our hand, walking through it with us and redeeming it for good and for His glory. We must throw the "whys?" out the window and trust in Him. We must have this thing called faith.

So, with trust and faith that God is using this storm, this tragedy, this mess in our life right now, I can say, with confidence, that "God is good all the time, and all the time God is good".